Introspection
by halbarath
Summary: Years after they first met, Soubi reflects upon his relation with Ritsuka. Two-shot. Rated M to be on the safe side...
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

It had been a hell of a bumpy road from Ritsuka's utter lack of trust to our present relation, I reflected as I watched him bustling around in my flat.

I had to change too, since Ritsuka wouldn't give orders. It took me a long time to adjust, to find a new purpose, a new perspective. My Sacrifice refused to train me properly and I confess I sometimes resented him for it. Training from Ritsu and Seimei taking over, guilt would wash over me. And since Ritsuka wouldn't punish me either, I had found myself in this abysmal predicament more often than I cared to count. Years later, I knew my Sacrifice enough to manage our relation without orders or punishments. We lost a long time however but Ritsuka would argue I regained dignity. That might be true even if it's still rather naïve of him to believe a few years of fair treatment could erase the discipline and abnegation that had been beaten into me. But I've loved him unconditionally. I've always loved my masters.

I had loved Ritsu. I was a child then, an orphaned one moreover. I had clung to him, the only one who would take me in, shelter me, personally train me. He took an interest in me when all those that mattered had died. I loved him as only a child can, a complete and untainted love. I loved him despite the beatings, the harsh words, the discipline. I loved him despite the early loss of my ears because at 14, I had long since understood what my place was ever going to be. Once I had accepted I would have no dreams, no desires, no wish of my own, it was easier to give my whole self away. I would be his Fighter one day, what did it matter if he also possessed my body earlier rather than later? Ignorance is bliss. And then, he gave me to Seimei. Love turned into hate, one of the first real feeling that had burned my soul and heart since a very long time. I walked out of Gōra with a new, bright, shining scar. Hate.

I loved Seimei too. Seimei wanted me. He had asked for me. He named me. Called me. Trained me. I was his and the letters on my neck were a constant reminder that I had a rightful place on Earth. That I belonged. That I was never going to be abandoned again. I lived for Seimei. I would die for him at any given time. I had been honed as the perfect Fighter, never questioning, never disobeying, never wondering, nerve arguing. I knew my place and I held it. I was loyal to my Sacrifice. I was true to my training. But it still wasn't enough. Seimei was cruel. He liked to hurt for the pleasure of it, not only for the discipline. And yet, marks of ownership were my pride because I had never been under the illusion I could pretend to anything more. I loved Seimei. I feared Seimei. I hated Seimei. But the compulsion of the name was stronger. I loved Seimei. And he died. He died.

I didn't love Ritsuka. He cried and ran. He was young and fearful. He was too thin and he submitted to his mother. He wouldn't ask for help yet he would look at me with those big, teary eyes. But Seimei had ordered me to love him. Seimei couldn't be wrong. So I said 'I love you.' Again and again. Because if you repeat it often enough it makes it true. That's what training is all about. Hammering a behaviour, conditioning the mind. 'I love you. I love you. I love you.' Do I love you, Ritsuka?

I kissed him. Because we didn't share a name, how was I to bond with him? Ritsu had taught me physical contact was the quickest way. So I kissed him. He was soft and pliant. And blushing. And he allowed it. I could **touch** him. I loved him then, a little bit. I could hug him. I could pet his hair. I could hold his hand. I could tend to his wounds. I could hold him close when he was pale as death and clenching his teeth to endure the pain in his heart. I loved him then, a little more each time.

Sweet Ritsuka has always been strong-willed. Sweet Ritsuka was right : you can't love someone because you've been ordered to. I didn't know it then. I know now. Because the way I love Ritsuka has nothing to do with how I loved Ritsu and Seimei. Because the way I love Ritsuka has been a surprise. Because the way I love Ritsuka has happened on its own. Because I love Ritsuka for all that he is and all that he isn't. And as I sat watching him in my flat, love shined bright inside me. Sweet Ritsuka had grown. Sweet Ritsuka was mine, as Ritsu and Seimei had never been. Sweet Ritsuka was feisty and caring. And sweet Ritsuka was a very, very handsome man at the present time.

The small, scared child was all gone. Ritsuka was no longer picked upon or pitied. He was noticed. He was not dominating, he abhorred the very idea of it. But he was charismatic and wore a look of confidence that gave him credentials. When he left a room, the air changed. I thought at first that was due to our bond. But other people felt his absence without seeing him leave. The power of Loveless tended to seep through into his everyday life. Other units were wary of him now. His mature voice reflected it perfectly: a dark, velvety, authoritative rumble, sometimes accompanied by a barely perceptible but very disdainful sneer on his left upper lip.

Ritsuka was the carbon copy of his brother, save for the eyes. Where Seimei's were such a dark purple they seemed black, Ritsuka's irises were a bright plum. Where Seimei's were cold, Ritsuka's were warm and sparkling. They were open pits into their souls for who cared to properly look. I did.

Ritsuka was tall now, about head shorter than me. At seventeen, only his cat-ears betrayed the fact he wasn't an adult, when in truth, he was more mature and grown-up than many earless I've had the displeasure to meet.

Physical training had strengthened his body and built muscles where his child-self had been all skin and bones. The hollowness of his face had disappeared when his appetite accorded itself with his growth spurs. I like to think he also enjoyed my cooking. Bandages faded away as he got stronger and easily deflected or endured his mother's outbursts.

Yes, all in all, my Sacrifice has become a very handsome man.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N : Not mine. All Kouga Yun's. I'm sorry I forgot to write the disclaimer in the first part.

 **CHAPTER 2**

Ritsuka has always been attentive to me. He ordered very little but those were not to be countered and they usually pertained to me.

Don't lie, even if the truth is worse. A lie by omission is still a lie. First rule, no initiative allowed.

Never expect violence from him, not even as punishment. Second rule, never to be argued. Ever.

Disclose and treat your wounds. Third rule, never to be trifled with.

Take care of yourself. Fourth rule, boggled my mind for a long time. I had assumed then he expected me to be fit for battle. As if I would ever be remiss about such a fundamental rule. I had concluded he believed me stupid. Considering I was still beloved, that wasn't so far-fetched to me. But of course that wasn't what he had meant. I should have known better, coming from Ritsuka. Only he would order my well-being and emotional peace. As if that meant anything to me back then. As if the concept wasn't completely foreign. But Ritsuka had ordered. There were so few of them, surely I could manage only four of them. Couldn't I? Ritsuka has always tended to challenge people, to make them rethink their beliefs, their opinions, their behaviour, even their value. I wasn't immune. But the process has been — painful, to say the least.

Ritsuka has never really accepted his role as Sacrifice. He would wear the cloak of leader for a battle without hesitation but he would shed it the instant we win. He would assume the name of Loveless confidently when confronting another unit despite his deep hatred of it. Was it because of his brother, his mother or his own soft heart that he was so loathed of this power and hierarchy? I've never managed to know. I'm not sure he understands it himself.

But one thing I was sure of : this older Ritsuka was self-confident and knew exactly what he wanted. I smiled when I saw him stride purposefully towards me with two beers. This was becoming a habit. He wouldn't appreciate it if I pointed it out so I kept silent and smiled wider. A slight twitch of his eyes let me know he wasn't fooled.

He plopped down on the couch next to me and proceeded to gulp his drink. I swear he had spent too much time around Kio when he had been a child. He carefully put away his empty bottle and snuggled against me. What had been cute a few years ago had become very arousing. A willing Ritsuka cuddling against me was not a sight I ever wished to forget.

My Sacrifice has been more engaging these last weeks. He initiated physical proximity after a minimal-contact spell of several years. The change was delightful but I wasn't sure how far I could push it, so I let him set the pace. After all, he was the one who still sported ears.

He made small talk as his hand drew sweet nothing under my shirt. Can you be cute at 17? I rubbed light circles on his back, coaxing him closer. When he finally mustered up enough grit, he kissed me, small, soft kisses. His lips moulded against mine. I could feel the warmth radiating from his cheeks. My sweet, cute Ritsuka. Still blushing over a small peck? Would he swoon if I kissed him properly? My hand snaked up to his hair, slightly more forceful and I held his head against mine. I kissed his upper lip, sucking lightly on it, nibbling and teasing. I ran the tip of my tongue to appease the sensitive skin. My fingers found a velvet ear and I stroke it tenderly, respectfully. I still marvelled at Ritsuka's resilience. When most of his friends were earless, he still had them. My ministrations made him gasp and I shamelessly took advantage of his slightly opened mouth to deepen the kiss. I felt him stiffen in surprise but he didn't pull away.

One hand on his back held him close and the other massaged his scalp while I took sweet time savouring him. Kissing him was enthralling and when our tongues met and danced, he literally melted against me and moaned very softly. I admit I enjoyed it every bit as much as he did. I cupped his face and drew back slightly, letting him regain his composure and giving him the opportunity to pull back altogether. He peered at me through hooded eyes, his red, swollen lips begging to be kissed again but no sound made it past his throat. He inched closer to me, intent evident and stilled suddenly, his face flushing scarlet. I unconsciously arched an eyebrow and raked my eyes over him for some injury. Had he made a wrong move and hurt himself? He stammered something about going home and made a hasty retreat, leaving me quite bewildered before it struck me. Uncomfortable in your own clothes, my Ritsuka? I smirked. Since I shared his predicament and I was about to choose between smoking outside in the frigid December air or having a cold shower, I didn't feel particularly guilty. And kissing him senseless was definitely worth it. I touched my lips absentmindedly. Yes, definitely worth the trouble.

For the next few weeks, being kissed thoroughly again seemed to be his sole intention. Snogging sessions? I wasn't about to argue. And Ritsuka was a quick learner. He was also very devious and would kiss me to avoid questions and situations he had no intention of addressing. He would kiss me to embarrass our friends or make them leave. He would kiss me out of jealousy. He would kiss me to suit his needs and purposes. Most of the time however, he would kiss me because we both enjoyed it very much.

That's how I've found myself in bed with him. It certainly was very pleasant. I wondered briefly how he had managed to coax me towards my bedroom but his warm hands on my skin stopped my train of thought. My lips were already tingling and he was nibbling on my ear. I scratched one of his cat-ear until he purred in appreciation. One thing leading to another, we were both aroused by the time the question stilled my hands. No amount of foreplay or fooling around the previous weeks would quell the suddenly burning question. I had to be sure.

"Ritsuka? Do you know how to — proceed?" He mumbled indistinctively, trailing featherlike kisses up to my neck where he set about leaving a love bite.

"Sure," he managed, his hands roaming freely on me and for the next few minutes, making any thought unnecessary. But when his caresses began to be more intense and his lips burned my skin, I pushed him away slightly, just enough to stop his lovely ministrations and concentrate on the topic.

"Ritsuka," I said again to draw his attention. "Do you really know what to do?" He looked at me with a small frown, clearly annoyed at my interruption and the subsequent hold on any physical contact.

"Yes, I do," he grumbled before kissing me again. By the time he decided to elaborate, he had managed to get us both half-naked. I realized then a leading Ritsuka was a major turn-on. Did I really want an answer to my question? It seemed so pointless... The soft rumble of his voice registered well before his words.

"I relax," he began and snaked his tongue in my mouth, enjoying yet another kiss, "and let you do all the hard work," he finished playfully, his voice rougher and his breath shorter. I literally froze, taken aback.

"What's wrong?" He asked, attentive now, sensing that not only wasn't I returning his fondling but I wasn't even enjoying them anymore either. I stuttered. I am not one who stammers and loses his words. But right then, I stuttered.

"I can't possibly —" I blinked. I must have been a sore sight, sitting almost naked in bed, blinking stupidly the incomprehension dimming my intellectual capacities.

"Why not? Have you become impotent lately?" He arched an eyebrow. Never a good omen. Usually meant he was about to lose patience.

"No! But I — it — I mean —" there I was, sputtering again. How could he make me so undeniably inarticulate without even trying? "I could **hurt** you." I finally managed a simple sentence.

"I wasn't aware it is supposed to be painful." Oh, not losing patience, my mistake. Only teasing. I'm sorry, not at my maximal cognitive activity. Surprised the hell out of me after all. Not mentioning the blood supply had been momentarily redirected and was only now flowing back to my brain.

"Can't we — swap?"

"Swap?" He repeated in a deceptively low and soft voice. He leaned forward, his face inches from mine, suspicion on his features. "Please tell me you're not suggesting I should be on top because I'm your Sacrifice."

 _Don't lie._

"I —" What should I say? I could already see in his eye anger boiling. "I don't know any other way." That much was true even if I was pretty sure that wouldn't win his approval. Can I pride myself in how much I know him? He straightened and I braced myself against the oncoming storm. That's what happened each time I couldn't censor a thought born out of my initial training. I've managed to ruin a perfectly fine afternoon. Ritsuka flushed again. I find it more pleasant when it isn't in anger.

"Fuck, Soubi!" Swearing? Then he's definitely beyond angry. "Do you really have to bring such crap inside the bedroom too?" He hopped off the bed and snatched his clothes. "Can't believe it," he muttered as he got dressed. "Not in the mood anymore, " he declared, a hand on the doorknob and his frown still firmly in place. "I'm going home." The front door slammed.

I drew out a cigarette and took a long drag from it. I wasn't alarmed because I knew Ritsuka wasn't angry with me per se. Took me years to understand and accept it but I've reached the point in our relation where I could stay home and not worry unnecessarily when my Sacrifice stormed out. That was Ritsuka at his best. He would rage, stomp his feet, slam the door, leave in a huff and give me the cold shoulder for a few days but he would come back to me. After all, kissing was so much better than sulking. Maybe next time I will manage to just shut up and kiss him. Maybe next time we could agree long enough to make an adult out of him.

Hm. Yes, that was very promising.

 **The end.**


End file.
